


The Expendables Book Club

by hellkitty



Category: The Expendables (Movies)
Genre: Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-29
Updated: 2014-08-29
Packaged: 2018-02-15 05:25:57
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,154
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2217405
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellkitty/pseuds/hellkitty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Toll Road's listening to an audiobook.  Ridiculousness ensues.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Expendables Book Club

"Everyone got the checklist?"  Barney Ross didn't run the prettiest ship in the mercenary business, nor maybe the tightest, so it was always best to ask and make sure. His team, all of them, were in a loose mass in an open bay of the garage, cleaning and prepping equipment.  Shit got unfun real fast if a static line frayed.  

A chorus of 'yeah's, more than one with that confessional tone that yeah, they'd gotten the list but hadn't, you know, read it yet. He checked off the voices mentally: Luna, Smilee, Jensen, Roa--no, not him. "Road!"  

The squat groundfighter was sitting right over there, running a bore brush down his M4.  

And ignoring Ross. Ross didn't like being ignored. "Road! Yo! Toll Road!"  

It wasn't until Caesar elbowed the other that he looked up, and Ross could see the little cords from earphones, as the man pulled one out, another fumbling with his pocket. "What?"

Forget the checklist for a minute. "The hell are you listening to?"

"Better not be Kylie Minogue again," Christmas muttered. "And especially don't dance to it."

Road shot Christmas a hot look. "I'll have you know that dancing is considered a very important social skill."

"Yeah? Add that to that list of social skills you _don't_ have."  

"Break it up," Ross interjected. "And answer."  Because he had a feeling this was going to be...interesting. He deserved some entertainment for being ignored.

"It's an audiobook.  I don't suppose you oldsters have ever heard of them."

"Oldsters?" Christmas seemed as bemused by the word as the fact that Toll Road was their age. Who even used that word?  " _You_ oldsters?"

Toll Road, apparently, and dead serious, too. "This audiobook have a name?"

"Hey, what's with the third degree? Can't a guy try to improve his mind?"

"A never ending project for you, I'd think," Christmas said.

"The work of self-improvement is never done," Toll Road retorted.  "And it's Chapman's _The Five Love Languages_."  He looked up through his bushy brows with strained patience at the titters that ran through the team, old and young alike. "You asked."

"Wasn't that some kind of best-seller a while back?" Mars asked.  

Toll Road turned. "Yeah, I'm a little behind, okay?" He glared at Jensen. "And you keep your behind-ass jokes to yourself. It's the lowest form of humor. It wouldn't hurt you guys to get a little knowledge, you know."  

"I'll bite." Why not? Wouldn't be the first thing Ross had ever regretted. "What's it about?"

Toll Road squinted at him, trying to measure how serious he was, but he was chatty when he did open up and it was just a matter of time....

"It's about how a lot of miscommunication happens in relationships, because people have different ways of recognizing affection.  You know, someone might feel loved if they get praised. Or some, you can praise them all day, but they want gifts. And another wants you to do stuff with them.  And if you are one kind and they're another, well, there's gonna be problems."

"For the record, Barney, my language of love is money," Christmas said. "You can speak it to me any time."  

"Would have figured all that saving your ass I've done to be enough."

"Looks like Toll Road's guy is right. We have us some miscommunication."

"Hnf," Jensen said, looking up from his knife.  "Real men don’t need to learn about that stuff from books.”

“And you’re a real man.”  Thorn looked up from his tablet computer, with heavily feigned curiosity.

“Don’t hear any women complaining,” Jensen said, smugly.

“Come to think of that,” Doc cut in, “How come we’ve never actually seen you with a girl?”

“Me? I get plenty of girls. I just don’t bring them around you Neanderthals.”  

“Afraid of the competition?” Christmas said. He exchanged a 'we Neanderthals' look with Ross.

“Not from you, with your tiny little knives.”

A round of ‘ooooooh’ through the group. Christmas bristled, then settled down. “It strikes me," he said, forcing his voice cool, "that someone might take a look at that beast of yours and think you’re overcompensating.”

Jensen pulled a face.

“Hey now” Caesar said, “It’s advertising. Like peacocks with big tails. Big men. Big knives. Big guns. Big...everything.” He gave a broad wink, and leaned over to fistbump Jensen.

“And everyone knows chicks dig big...knives," Jensen said. 

“Really?” Smilee said. “Hey, I have an idea. Why don’t we ask our honest-to-god actual ‘chick’? Luna?”

Luna had been sitting on an oil drum, loading ammo into magazines. She’d stayed on the outskirts of the conversation not because she was shy, but because in her mind it was WAY more fun to sit back and watch.  Still, she couldn’t turn down a call to her womanly wisdom.

“Big dick down here?” She tapped her crotch. “Okay, if he knows how to use it. Otherwise, it’s like a teenager driving a Harley for the first time. Way too much engine for him.”  She grinned, tapping her head. “Now a big dick up here?  Different story.”

“Oooooh,” Doc said. “Think she’s talking about you, Jensen.”

“Because she likes me.”

Luna couldn’t eyeroll hard enough. Still, she gave it a valiant effort, before scooting herself off the drum. Hey, since she had the spotlight, might as well make use of it, right? She wasn't the wallflower type. And a lesser woman might have found it tough to look sexy walking in cargo pants, but Luna had mastered that a long time ago. For just such situations.

"How about I solve the mystery right here for you boys?" She looked around, hands spread, offering. "How about I tell you what women really find irresistibly hot?"

"Bring it!" Smilee grinned.  "I think these old geezers might still need a clue."

"Old geezers? You really need to be redundant here?"  Ross couldn't help but feel a little, you know, stung.

"I think some of you young geezers could use a clue, too," she said, cocking her head at Mars, a friendly tease, as she started walking the perimeter of the ring of mercs. "But just for the record, women aren't all about money--girls are, maybe, but real women aren't--or flashy clothes," she pursed her lips at Doc who shrugged. Hey, he dressed for himself. It'd been eight damn years since he'd been able to have some style and he was going to take full advantage. "Or flowers, or any of that stuff.   What women really like? What really turns them on?" She passed behind Jensen, tousling his hair, tsking.  Really, he probably wasn't a bad guy. Not the type she'd like to date, but he was harmless, for all his talk. Like dogs--big bark, probably no bite. "What we really like, honestly," she said, swinging down to the bench beside Toll Road, planting a kiss on his cheek, "Is a really, really big brain."

 


End file.
